


While you were dreaming

by JeffersonStarships



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Love Letters, Lucifer's inner thoughts?, No Plot/Plotless, Why don't people write letters anymore?, a smidge of pining, without the the love?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 06:31:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18889084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeffersonStarships/pseuds/JeffersonStarships
Summary: I keep thinking…I keep thinking about that time we were walking- where our footsteps fell in line perfectly…We were having a conversation and you were dreaming.





	While you were dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to admit right now that I don't know what this is, just that I like it.

I keep thinking…          

I keep thinking about that time we were walking- where our footsteps fell in line perfectly… (You probably don’t remember it- Hell, I don’t think you _could_ )

We were having a conversation and you were dreaming.

It was strange. I had just walked into your mind and had not expected you to be unconscious- I mean, really? Your sleeping habits are deplorable and entirely inconvenient, how dare you- I’m going on a tangent-

You were running to class or something- you were in college, remember?- anyway you were running and I had walked right into your path, expecting you to stop dead in your tracks and like… scream or something quite loud and appropriate, but you just caught sight of me, rolled your eyes and smiled before hurrying passed.

I was flabbergasted- shocked- appalled- and completely within my rights to cut you down in your prime and smash your corpse into dust. I am an Angel- Archangel!- a creation of God so mighty and powerful I make planetary momentum look like child’s play- like marbles in the dirt- like specks of _something_ floating in _something_ , I don’t know, I wasn’t created to craft metaphors, I was made to kill- to be killed- I had a job and writing love letters wasn’t it- NOT that this is love letter- Jesus Christ, why is this so hard?

ANYWAY, you walked right passed me- snubbed me, and even if it made me want you sprinkle you with gasoline and light you on fire, I did not. How pleasant of me. But I followed you.

You looked over your shoulder and saw me following you. You rose your eyebrows and slowed a bit and let me catch up, so we were walking beside each other.

You: with your arms full of books.

Me: wrapped tight inside Dear Nicolas.

We: didn’t talk. Just walked through the college campus, with a destination in mind I’m sure, I just wasn’t leading us there, you were.

And after a while I realized we were having a conversation- wordless, but existent. I let you lead, and that was new because I never trusted strangers before and to be honest, you are a stranger to me, even still. I mean, what was the cage? Millennia after millennia, and still, in comparison to my age that is hardly a second, hardly a blip in my radar, but you have a way of getting under my skin- like some kind of mite… (I promise I did not laugh at that imagery, I would never- I, good sir, am an adult).

Did you hear the part about us having a conversation? Yes? No?

The jist was I trusted you, and you smiled at me. (I feel this is another one of those moments where I should add in that I hate you. I hate you quite a lot and I rue the day Creation deemed you necessary to the downfall of your species and the destruction of Earth only to have you slap that bitch in the face and say, “Not today, you piece of unholy shit.” You are quite the nuisance and I wish I understood how you did it.) But your smile made Nick’s heart beat feel like canon fire and that is not okay! It hurt, and it scared me.

Do you have any idea how old I am?

You do not show me affection, you do not smile, and you do not let me see it if you do.

You are a lovely boy, but creatures my age should never learn that no one has ever looked at them with any sort of fondness in all of their exceedingly long life except a brother who hates you so fiercely you can feel that hatred screaming in the back of your head like sirens, “NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT GOOD ENOUGH NOT-“ You get the picture, yeah?

Great.

You led me to your apartment. It was small. But clean. It smelled like a woman lived there. Jessica… Jess?

She wasn’t there.

You glanced around the small space, but didn’t go looking for her, just put your books down on the kitchen table and walked into the living room.

You didn’t invite me in, just left the door open and let me decide if I would enter.

 

 

 

Dictated but not read,

Signed Satan-

King of Hell-

Your ALMIGHTLY Dark Overlord (Insert evil laugh)-

He who should not be named- oh, wait that’s Voldemort-

Fuck it.

 

Signed, Voldemort

 

P.S. Tell Dean XOXO. He’ll know what it means. <3 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on a Spideypool for like a year (It is currently clocking in at over 100,000 words and is so unmanaged it hurts my heart to look at), and been mucking around with shorter but still growing fics(spideypool, wolfstar, samsifer). Keep a look out if you're interested? Idk. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


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